"Wonder Woman 1984", directed by Patty Jenkins and scripted by Geoff Johns and Dave Callahan (based on Jenkin's concept) is in part a turnabout, Donner/Lester-esque sequel to the 2017 blockbuster, reinventing the first film's endearing, fish-out-of-water motif to the '80s. In this particular chapter, Chris Pine's spiritually transplanted Steve Trevor is the symbolic fish, or is he? The catch of "WW84" is that perceptions can be tweaked, especially when old love dangles and the truth is evaded whenever one wants more.
Within the surreal set-up, Gal Gadot's fearless amazon, whether in the guise of Diana Prince or Wonder Woman, must deal with an affable but struggling, Luthor-like, oil magnate named Maxwell Lord, played by Pedro "The Mandalorian" Pascal.
I suppose dewdrop highbrows would argue that Lord possesses Trumpian attributes, but if so, those traits evaded me, maybe because I saw no need to see them. Heck, I'm no highbrow; nor would I ever wish to be. The same goes for most who'll see this flick. Something to consider among filmmakers, critics and casual viewers alike who insist on finding one-sided, political narrative in fantasy features. I mean, why shove in stuff that the hardcore fan base doesn't want, anyway? Just sayin'.
At any rate, thanks to a God of Lies dream stone, Lord is able to mesmerize people and bring their desires to life. Are these desires beneficial or detrimental? Well, considering that Lord is the antagonist, the answer should be clear. (Think along the lines of W.W. Jacob's "The Monkey's Paw" and its wish-fulfilling consequences: No wish is ever fulfilled without a profound and terrible price.) As Wonder Woman and the channeled Trevor's relationship grows, Lord begins to expand his empire of deception on tiers of fears, illusions and delusions to the point where one wonders if its infectious spread can be stopped. (Certainly love can't stop it, even though the script implies that heartfelt affection could and should be the antidote.)
Along with the supporting (perhaps-faux) Trevor, Kristen "Ghostbusters '16" Wiig's Cheetah, aka Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva, claws her way into the plot (and early on, at that, as a sheepish, Smithsonian staff member). She's without question pure flesh and blood to the script's circumstances, and though lonely, desperate and empathetic at the outset (in the same floundering-fish way that we find Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman, Jim Carrey's Riddler and Jamie Foxx's Electro), she becomes Lord's accidental accomplice through basic, make-me-like-Diana wish-mastery. This leads to two brawls between Wonder Woman and Cheetah, charged by heavy, CGI prancing in the nocturnal second. (Hans Zimmer's "Batman v Superman"-linked score fuels the blurry ferocity in both instances.)
"WW84'"s '80s setting is another distinguishing factor, with its titular date alluding to an obvious, Orwellian subtext. (High-tech charms are never trustworthy, especially when buffered by televised, "Halloween III" trickery.) Still, the decor (often prismatic and like Wonder Woman's mind-of-its-own lasso and grand, Asteria armor, golden and Reagan-era sleek) doesn't place the adventure on a par with David Leitch's "Atomic Blonde", which better stokes the decade's genuine, Cold War-finale flame. If anything, "WW84'"s backdrop is but nostalgic filler that alludes to "Wall Street" avarice, but it's purposeful enough to highlight its heroine's eternal endurance within other timelines in other possible (if not probable) sequels/prequels. (The athletic, Themyscira prologue further spearheads the evident intent.)
Though it may not emit the freshness of its origin-revamping (WWI) forerunner, "WW84" is worth trying on for size. (Whether it fits is all a matter of taste.) However, more than "WW84'"s content, it's refreshing to see a big-budget, DC/WB movie hit the scene again, despite the annoyance of a propagandized pandemic that can't help but blunt the goddess' righteous thunder. (Now, let's see if the dewdrop patrol can stop Ms. Gadot from playing Cleopatra.)
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